ELECTION '96.

Clinton-dole Race A Tale Of Generations

Kansan Recalls Earlier, Harder Times

RUSSELL, Kan. — One man comes from the generation that doesn't like to talk about things. The other comes from the generation that talks about everything.

One hails from this small town in western Kansas, where people fought dust storms, the Depression and the boom and bust of the oil business.

The other was born in Hope, Ark., but shaped in Hot Springs, a resort town based on gambling and pleasure--and the therapeutic value of taking the waters.

The Kansan's father wore overalls to work for 40 years and "was proud of it," his son says. His mother was an ever-driven perfectionist who waxed her front porch, made her own drapes and expected a similar level of performance from her children. The Arkansan never knew his father, lived with an alcoholic stepfather and a mother who pushed her son, but also spent time playing the ponies.

Sen. Bob Dole nearly lost his life leading a platoon in the hills of northern Italy during World War II. Like most of his generation, he didn't question the obligation of military service. President Clinton, like hundreds of thousands in his generation, avoided service during the Vietnam War and demonstrated against his government.

Dole's generation set the limits; Clinton's tested them all.

At this stage in the race for the presidency, it's a battle of the biographies.

If the economy is stable and if the U.S. is not involved in any major military conflict, the candidates will, in effect, be running on their backgrounds, both personal and professional, and the election will be in large part a referendum on character. Clinton endured that test in 1992.

On Monday, with the Republican presidential nomination secure, Dole went first. He returned to his hometown and its welcoming images of small-town America: a quaint Main Street, a lively rally at the high school gymnasium, a stop at his modest boyhood home.

His campaign, not so subtly, was mindful of the contrast it was drawing with the president, who was introduced to the nation at the Democratic National Convention in 1992 as the man from Hope. The case they would like to make: Clinton's life story is filled with contrivance; Dole's is as real as Russell, Kan.

For Dole, who must battle an image of a man who may have been in Washington too long, Russell provided an emotional reminder of his roots.

"At this moment, I wanted to be home, to come to this place," he said, halting as his voice choked. "And see all my friends and all the people that I owe so much."

After Dole's war injuries, with the army essentially unable to help him, the people of Russell raised $1,800, placing donations in a cigar box at Dawson's, the drug store where Dole worked as a youth.

"The people here shaped my values and they also showed me what compassion was all about. . . . And all my life I have tried to repay those gifts."

In a speech laced with uncharacteristic emotion, Dole went on: "Anyone who wants to understand me--though I've been gone for some time--must first understand the community of Russell, Kansas, USA.

"It was here that I learned that doing was better than talking, but I also learned to speak my mind, to be direct, even at the cost of controversy. . . . The people who raised me preferred frankness to diplomacy. It was here I learned not to wear my heart on my sleeve . . . that some things are worth living worth for, and some are worth the sacrifice.

"I consider myself to be a plain-spoken Kansan but I found my philosophy in the poetry of America. I certainly have limitations, but I will never apologize for who I am because I am one of you, and I consider that one of the real privileges of my life."

All morning, the town busily prepared for the return of its most famous son. By 6 a.m. all the waitresses at Meridy's were wearing their new Dole for President T-shirts as they poured coffee. One local volunteer talked about his task of making several thousand bratwurst for the candidate's noontime barbecue.

It wasn't difficult to find someone whose life Dole had touched. Leah Blake, a clerk at a department store, said Dole helped her mother with Leah's adoption when Dole was county attorney in 1958.

"I've always felt a bond with him," Blake said. "He's an honest man. Most people in this town are down to earth. That's what I think about him. He's down to earth."

Whether the country wants to take itself back to the small town way of life embodied in early postwar Russell or is seeking a new direction will in part be settled by Americans when they vote in November.

In another time, Dole's life story alone might have been enough to propel him to the Oval Office. But fewer and fewer Americans can clearly identify with the struggle of World War II. He is hoping that his call for "one more mission" for his generation will be answered.

"The world changes, but the principles remain," Dole said. "And those principles will always lead me back to Russell, Kan. In times of crisis, I will always hear the voices of this town, the voices of encouragement and integrity and sacrifice."